Don't Wake Sammy
by Moony3003
Summary: After a night out, Dean returns home to his father. Rated M. Contains incest and graphic slash. Don't like, don't read.


**Disclaimer:** Supernatural doesn't belong to me. Just playing in Kripke's sandbox.

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Warning: Contains slash and incest (father/son). Don't like, don't read. You've been given fair warning.

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A/N: Was originally posted as Warped Reality but I hated the title and thought the story could do with a rewrite. It's still very much the same though. I like it a little better now.

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Don't Wake Sammy

The front door of the small, two bedroom apartment creaked heavily on its hinges as it swung open, lightly hitting the wall behind it. Mumbling incoherently under his breath, Dean cursed and closed the door slowly, making sure it didn't make a sound before putting the chain in place.

With his hand still against the chain, Dean stopped and turned his head slightly, looking towards the doorway. But after a few seconds, nothing happened. He inhaled slowly and deeply, thankful that his entrance hadn't been heard and woken anyone up.

Walking towards the small table just near the kitchen, Dean removed his leather jacket and placed it on the back of one chair, shaking his head slightly in disbelief as it creaked similarly to how the door had seconds ago. It was now summer and once again his dad had rented the family an apartment to stay at. To say it was crappy was an understatement. It was even worse than all the backwater motels they lived in. At least the motels had a television with decent channels and a heater that worked at least a little.

"Where have you been?"

Dean jumped out of his skin and turned to see a light come on as the words reached him. His father sat on the ancient armchair in the corner, his dark eyes focused on him, his features impassive. Instantly, Dean's eyes moved downwards and subtly he counted the amount of beer bottles that surrounded him. There were nine.

"Fuck, dad! You scared the crap out of me," said Dean loudly, forgetting about his brother in the other room.

"Shh," John murmured. "You'll wake Sammy."

Dean's mouth closed as he nodded, showing that he understood. He knew what Sam was like if he didn't get enough sleep and Dean didn't really feel like being on the receiving end of it in the morning.

"I asked you a question, Dean."

Dean swallowed at the hard tone in his father's voice. "I was just, uh, out on a date."

"You're lying," growled John.

"Well... it was kind of a date," he said defensively. At seeing his father's features tighten, Dean licked his suddenly dry lips. "We had a couple drinks, some food..." he added, trailing off quickly at realising his mistake of talking more.

"Fucked her too, I presume," said John quietly, his tone difficult to decipher.

Dean swallowed hard again and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He stuttered airily, running a hand through his short hair, fumbling to find the right words to end this conversation and climb in the bed next to his little brother and go to sleep.

But suddenly, the blithe look on Dean's face vanished as he felt the atmosphere change. He felt his heart sink into his stomach as his eyes remained on his father. John's head titled back a little, his mouth falling open and his eyes shutting half way.

"Come here, Dean."

Dean's jaw clenched unconsciously. He hardly dared himself to look down his father's body and he saw what he expected to see. Even in the faint light from the table lamp and the faint shadows running across John's face, Dean could already see the outline of an erection pressing against his father's jeans. Dean's mouth turned dry as his own cock jerked in interest.

"I... should go to bed..."

"I said, come here, Dean!" said John, his voice rising a little. "You're a good son, aren't you?"

Those softly spoken words made Dean's eyes close momentarily. Taking a deep breath, Dean slowly walked over to where his father sat. Within a few steps of him, Dean could smell the alcohol that seemed to be radiating off him. Dean was slightly amazed that his father could think coherently let alone talk.

Silently, Dean watched as John parted his legs, looking at him expectantly. Gracefully, Dean dropped to his knees and moved forwards. Just like all the other times this happened so late, he was sure this could be over with quickly. It's not that he hated this, on the road during a hunt, sometimes it was necessary but he didn't like it after being out all night with scantily-clad girls he wasn't sure if he was up for this even though little Dean thought he was.

Reaching up, Dean gently undid John's jeans, giving his father plenty of chances to knock his hands away, but he didn't. John instantly groaned at the heat and wetness that hit his cock, his hand snaking around to the back of Dean's head to bring him closer. As Dean looked up, he met John's eyes. They were wide and shining with lust.

Unable to deny him, Dean wrapped his lips around the head of John's cock, and John resisted the urge to pump his hips, not wanting to choke his son. Dean continued to watch John as he moved his mouth up and down, being careful himself not to choke and soon, the room was filled with obscene slurping. Closing his eyes, Dean moaned, working his mouth a little faster, dipping his tongue into the slit and sucking a little harder.

"Dean..." moaned John, his head hitting the back of the armchair with a soft thud.

At the sound of his name from his father's throat, Dean felt his own hardness push against his jeans, wanting release and he moaned again in return, sending vibrations straight through John making him pull Dean off him roughly. Holding Dean's arm tightly, John got to his feet, bringing Dean up with him and shoving him towards the sofa. He turned Dean around and bent him over the arm rest and as Dean supported himself, he knew that tonight wasn't going to be as quick.

Dean held his breath as he listened at the noises behind him. The rustling of clothes filled his ears and he knew his father's jeans were down around his ankles and within seconds, John tugged at his, pulling them down but only to the knees, freeing his heated member, causing him to hiss through his teeth at the cool air. The rustling soon stopped and another familiar sound reached him and Dean closed his eyes, bracing himself.

John slipped in one cool finger slowly, past the nail, to the first knuckle and slid it in and out gently, before sliding down to the second knuckle. "You alright, Dean?"

Dean nodded but said nothing.

Taking it as a good sign, John added a second finger, pushing it all the way in with the other. This time, Dean hissed lightly as he felt his body stretch to accommodate the intrusion.

"Still tight as ever," whispered John, sending shivers down Dean's spine.

John slid his fingers out gently before grabbing the lube again. Pouring some more onto his hands, his grasped his cock and covered it generously before positioning himself at Dean's entrance. Leaning over his son's back, John hastily removed the shirt covering him before pressing his lips to the heated skin.

"I love you, Dean," he whispered huskily before placing another kiss to the middle of Dean's back, the head of his cock breaching Dean's body as he moved.

As the large organ made its way in, Dean sighed shakily, trying to adjust quickly, arching his back when John hit that spot inside him. If it were possible, Dean felt himself grow harder and his leaned his head back, exposing the length of his neck. After a few long seconds, John was fully sheathed inside Dean's body, his balls pressed against him, instantly resisting the urge to thrust up into the hot silk wrapped around him. He didn't want to hurt Dean.

For a minute they stayed in that exact position before Dean nodded his head and muttered, "Move."

Without waiting a second longer, John began to thrust upwards, and Dean reached down to grasp his own cock, jerking himself off in time to John's movements. With almost every thrust John hit that sweet spot, making Dean call out each time.

"Fuck!" Dean cried out to one particularly hard thrust onto the bundle of nerves.

John stilled for a split second. "Shh... you'll wake Sammy."

Dean hung his head and swore under his breath. This was always a bad time to mention his younger brother. The thought that Sam could wake up and walk out at any moment and see this was too much to think about.

John started again, his thrusts quickly becoming hard and fast, the grip of John's hands on his hips promising to leave bruises tomorrow. He could tell John was close and Dean worked his cock faster, not wanting to be left out. John leaned down over Dean's back again, pressing his lips to his shoulder, biting him gently, wanting to keep himself from calling out.

As Dean whimpered, John felt his son's body tighten beneath him and still. Dean's eyes squeezed shut and he let out a tiny gasp as his own wetness covered his hand. John wasn't far behind. Grunting heavily, he gripped Dean's hips tighter and came hard into his son's body, biting into his shoulder hard enough to leave marks.

As soon as John came down from his orgasmic high, he gently withdrew from Dean's body and pulled his jeans back up, Dean soon doing to same, wiping the evidence onto them before retrieving his discarded shirt from the floor.

"Go to bed, Dean," said John as he return to the armchair, sitting down heavily. "And don't wake Sammy."

"Yes, sir," said Dean politely, not meeting his eye.

Leaving the room silently, Dean didn't look back. After a short five minute shower he changed into a clean pair of boxers and shuffled carefully under the sheets in the bed beside Sam's. Rolling onto his back, Dean sighed. The end to his evening wasn't quite what he had in mind, but it was still satisfying and he couldn't say it wasn't consensual. He never said no. Besides, it was better than anything he'd gotten earlier.


End file.
